newly opened eyes, she saw that while Howard generously gave to them all
of such things as he could in return for their hospitality, yet there
was a something different in his manner toward Barbara and Bettina.
Their room was always bright and fragrant with the most costly flowers,
and not a wish did they express but Howard was eager to gratify it.

She was troubled; and since the air of Florence was beginning to take
on the chill of winter--to become too cold for such an invalid as
Howard--she ventured one day, when they happened to be alone together,
to ask him if he would soon go farther south for the winter.

"Malcom told me you had stopped for only a time here on your way to the
south of Italy," she added.

The color rushed in a torrent over Howard's pale face, and he did not
speak for a minute; then, turning abruptly to her, said:--

"I cannot go away from Florence, Mrs. Douglas. Do you not see, do you
not know, how I have loved Barbara ever since I first saw her? You must
have seen it, for I have not been able sometimes to conceal my feelings.
They have taken complete possession of me. I think only of her day and
night. I have often thought I ought to tell you of it. Now, I am glad I
have. Do you not think she will sometime love me? She _must_. I could
not live without it." And his voice, which had trembled with excitement,
suddenly faltered and broke.

Poor Mrs. Douglas strove for words.

"You must not let her know this," she finally said. "She is only a
little girl whom her father and mother have entrusted to me. What would